Everyone agrees and they set off, Jilcup in the lead. The landscape changes little, with standing dead trees, slimy muck and creeping mist. The moisture in the air grows dank and chilly, feeling more like slime then water.
Just as the sunsets they come out of a thick stand of dead trees and see a lake right ahead of them. A white sandy beach surrounds the still, clear water. White mist is rising off of it, like a great column, widening into the darkening sky.
'We need to make camp." Jilcup says, eyeing the water.
Draflo? How much farther? Queshem asks as she busies herself helping set up camp.
After more map work and a rather long line of calculations the half-elf looks up, "Noon tomorrow, dead north." She points through the thinly space trees that merge into darkness and shadow as night creeps on.
With Jilcup's help, they find a small campsite on slightly raised ground, out of the rolling mists. Surrounded by a few massive trees, it provides at least a little shelter.
"A fire?" Polos asks, 'Or do we not want to attract anything?"
Let's run dark for tonight. Queshem says to Polos. We'll overlap watches a bit to keep as many eyes out as possible. I'll be glad to be out of this place Abadar knows
Can ye set traps? she asks Jilcup.
The druid shakes his head but says, 'I can put up something that'll warn us if anyone comes." With delicate care he traces the campsite with string and bundles of sticks. If anything hits them, the clatter should be loud enough to wake everyone.
The night passes uneasily. Queshem's watch is uneventful, silent, far more silent then a jungle should be. The drip of water, the slow moan of mist-laden wind and the creaking of old, dead wood are all she hears.
When she sleeps, her dreams are confused and muddled. Then, all becomes clear.
She is in the main square of a small city, bright painted buildings rising around her. M<en and women barter and swap items at several stalls, a man juggles, collecting coins. A number of kids dart around singing, squealing and playing. All is well....then, people start to point up.
In the sky, a jagged burst of light appears, first hard to see against the bright jungle sun but growing, growing, until it outshines everything, casting weird double shadows.
Some people scream, others run, most simply stare, dumb-struck as the pulsing orb of light hurtles right at the city. An otherworldly screech fills Queshem's mind, as the falling light tears the very air asunder.
A burst of light, a flash of heat, then darkness.
Queshem sits straight up, covered in sweat, mouth dry. Polos is at her side, looking worried, "Are you all right? You were yelling something in your sleep."
Weak awn light is filtering into the simple lean-to that is her shelter.
Dreams... bad ones she mutters as she shakes herself awake, the images already fading from her mind. This place has bad memories. Need to leave it to its misery I figure.
She's pleased though that the night went better than the last day. Alright. Let's get going. Hope we're not going into the dead lake.... she looks at Draflo. Are we?
"Not this one, at any rate." Draflo says, bags under her eyes. 'I had bad dreams as well. Everything was fire, burning, the whole forest..." She shakes her head.
'Dead north, Jilcup. Lead us."
As a group they head north, skirting the edge of the lake, soon leaving it behind. The ground rises, becoming hilly and steeper, but still the same dead mud and standing trees. The mist grows thicker, greasier, more unpleasant. Overhead the jungle sun is pale and wan, blocked by mist and strange shadows.
Still Jilcup is a good guide and with his help, they avoid various dead-ends and steep slopes. Everyone is in a hurry to get this job done with, and makes good time. It is early afternoon as they crest a rise and find, below them, a much larger, mist-shrouded lake. Dark water stands, silent and still, a giant white mirror reflecting the slowly churning mist.
"Right...there." Draflo says, her face falling, 'I think it is in the lake...Bad luck."
Ye feel any danger from the metal Draflo? Jilcup ye sense any living thing around here? Queshem says as she moves towards the lake after casting Detect Magic. She stops a little while away and casts Sift to see what she can see at the lake edge.
The wizard scans the lake and the area around it, "i..I don't sense anything, Captain. Except maybe...I'm not sure. I am no expert on skymetal...but I feel a vague sense of..displacement? I'm not sure how to describe it."
For his part the druid sits on the ground, eyes closed, head resting on a tree trunk. After a long moment he opens his eyes and shakes his head, 'Not even any insects. There won't be any fish in the lake." Then he adds, 'but if something undead was in there....I wouldn't know."
Queshem investigates, detecting nothing with her spell, except a faint but total aura of necromatic energy. Using her Sift spells he sees pale sand, still water, the swirl of mist. Then, at the very waters edge, the old remains of a wall, barely visible. Although there are no plants here, wind and rain have worked on it for many years.
Well, we'll need to be able to breathe and swim underwater as well as see, and somethin' to make us stronger to be able to haul up whatever might be down there. What you got Draflo?
Draflo ponders this and says, "I'll need a night to study and clear my mind. I have a few damage spell prepared now, in case we had met trouble on our way here. With a good night's rest, I can have spells for that. two of us can go down, and I can have them haul.
Rabbis steps forward, [b]'Take me. I can fight underwater and am the strongest here." His muscles, formed by a lifetime of rowing, prove his words.
One more day... Queshem says with a shake of her head. Well we've committed now. There's walls under the water which means we might find a maze when we get under there. Jilcup, can ye summon some fishies or something that can swim down and let us know what we can expect to see before the morow?
The old druid nods, 'I can do that...but I can't see what they can see, just ask them after. If they come back/ I'd be surprised if there is nothing down there.
A moment then the halfling adds, 'I could turn myself into a fish and go down myself, alone, to scout for you."
Nah, not alone. Queshem disagrees How long can ye turn into a fish for? Come along with us tomorrow then.
Jilcup shrugs, 'Hours. I will be happy to join you, although I bout we will enjoy what we find."
Queshem shrugs Don't like what we've found already to be honest. Draflo, Polos, you'll be alone up here, keep a watch out. Jilcup when we're down there I don't know if we'll be able to communicate. If we get into trouble I want ye to come back up and help Draflo and Polos get back to safety, yeah?
The halfling nods, then says, musingly, 'What do you think...a seal maybe...maybe a barracuda, we might have to stay submerged for long periods of time..."
There seem to be few good sites for camping around here, and the mist is already growing thicker, making dusk set in very soon.
Something good at fighting and seeing fer preference. Don't think it matters what time of day or night we set out. It's all the same down there right? Draflo ye might as well rest up right now and we'll head down as soon as yer ready. Don't figger you got a little extra for Mage Armor on Rabbis? I hear tell unarmed fighters make good use of that
If yer not going to be with us Draflo, then explain what it is that I'm looking fer. Can I use Detect Magic to hone in on what we be seeking?
Draflo nods, 'At close range, I think it will suffice. I still do not know what type of metal is to be found here, but most have strong properties at close range." She gives Queshem her lead-lined pouch, adding it should keep her safe.
They make a simple camp and Draflo stays up awhile with her books, while others keep watch. The mist thickens and grows into a nearly palpable force, and a weird feeling of dread and loneliness descends on everyone as the world grows dark. Odd sounds of dripping, crumbling wood and bubbling mud fills the night air.
Queshem is soon alone with the swirling white mists. behind her she can hear the others gently sleeping. Her mind is fill of worries about tomorrow. What lurked beneath the waves, would they find the metal, would Draflo and Polos be all right on shore while she was submerged? What happened here, so long ago...
Then, out of the mist she hears a soft voice in Common. She starts and realizes it is ..inside her head.
"Greetings, outlander. Why do you disturb my kingdom?" A pause then, 'Do not wake you allies..."
Queshem starts at the voice and reflexively casts Detect Magic before calming down... Ye can hear me think? she thinks back tentatively before continuing This be your kingdom? Begging yer pardon fer intruding but we're pretty much treasure hunters. Looking fer Star Metals from the rock that fell on this poor land so long ago.
The voice is soft, cunning...evil. Her spell detects nothing but the same pervasive sense of necomatic energy.
"Your thoughts are an open book to me, outlander." the voice sounds smug with itself, "But yes, this is my home you have invaded in your petty attempts at thievery. Are all thieves in your land so brazen?"
A pause which seems to tickle at Queshem's mind, 'What is your name, outlander?"
If my thoughts are an open book to ye, then ye already know my name don't ye? Queshem thinks back at the voice as her trained inquisitorial senses kick into overdrive at the tainted feeling she gets from the voice in her head.
Among the shadows of the standing trees and swirling mists she sees a small, lumpy shape. A swollen, brainlike bulb encrusted with fungal shelves squats atop several ropy legs. A wide, toothy mouth bisects the bulb’s crown.
There is a feeling of sickening pressure in Queshem's head but it passes.
'Perhaps I had hoped you would give me a gesture of goodwill? It is you who are the invader, the defiler. The homeowner need not give his account to the bandit, does he?"
Queshem recognizes it as a cerebic fungus. Strange and weird creatures from beyond Golarion, they dwell in isolated and distant spots. While not strictly evil, they are known to have ethics and deigns beyond understanding of normal beings. Cruel experiments and strange unnerving questions abound with these creatures.
Invader... Bit rich considerin' I'm at least a native of Golarion. Unlike ye. Yeh I see ye, and I know what ye are. Queshem thinks pulling her crossbow up and gesturing in the direction of the alien If ye try to abduct us or do any of yer experiments or mental tricks on any one of me or my crew then we will hunt ye down and end yer existence. So... instead, why don't we be civil and we can indulge each other's curiosity without ye messing with me head or me sending a bolt through ye
There is a pause and Queshem can see the small, bran-like figure shuffle behind a fallen log.
Then, 'Very well. I shall ask first. Tell me your name and why you are here? What do you wish to know?" There is a note of respect in the voice, apparently her violent thoughts got through to the creature.
My name's Queshem. I'm here to find something valuable to bring back. How long have you been here? Anything else around here that's a danger to me or mine? How about under the water?
"Not very informative..." the voice says, slightly put out. "It has been long since I have had a visitor beyond animals."
"I have been here for years, investigating, experimenting, examining...and there are many things in the lake...."
A pause then, 'I can be vague too."
Queshem sends back the mental equivalent of a shrug Valuable is valuable, I be after Star Metals. We tracked them here and it appears they be at the bottom of this pool o water. They're rare and so worth much.
'You risk your life for valuable stones?" the fungus sounds a bit confused then, 'Which of your allies would you give up first for such stones?"
None. I have faith my allies can handle the dangers we face. But if we can't. We'll retreat. So... what will we find down there?
"I have never been below the lake, and none of my servants have ever returned from that place. I do know a ruined city lies below, preserved by the water..."
A pause then, "How many valves does your heart have?" the fungus asks, 'And how long does it beat after your death?"
Well, if ye don't know much more about what's underground then I don't think ye have much to offer me anymore. Four Valves, beatin' depends on how a person dies. Most times the heart stoppin' is what causes death. Yer servants. Where have ye got them and how do ye force them to do yer bidding?
"I have many servants, mostly clustered here around the lake. Not all the undead here are under my control. Some of the more...simple ones, evades my mental abilities."
A pause then, "I will keep my servants from attacking you, for one third of the skymetal you procure. If this does not satisfy, I can only kill only one, your choice, for one fourth of the material."
Queshem considers this, then nods I will tell my crew about ye and if ye hold on to your end of the bargain then we will as well. One Third. Of course if we have to retreat with no metals then a third of nought is nought and that should not be held against us in keepin' the deal. Agreed?
If the bizarre creature agrees then Queshem will wake Draflo for the next watch.
The voice seems to pause in her head, as if measuring her words. Apparently finding them suitable it says, 'Very well, if you return. If you do not, the deal is dissolved and I will take your friends fluids."
A brief pause then, "Sleep well, Queshem."
The bizarre creature vanishes and the sick pressure in her head departs.She finds Draflo asleep over her books, a bit of ink smearing the half-elf's face.
'Anything happen?" She asks sleepily.
There's a cerebric fungus around that we're going to have to worry about. Queshem sighs. I was tempted to shoot it down but made a deal with it instead for it to leave us alone while we're busy underwater in exhange for a portion of what we retrieve. Do ye think ye can help Polos deal with it if it turns hostile? From what I know the damn things are good with messing with people's heads but are easy to kill otherwise. Possible for ye to prepare something fer that along with the Air bubbles and the like?
The elf ponders this and grabs one of her well-thumbed books, this one dark green. The words on it are exotic and foreign, and Queshem is unable to read them. "I might have something in here." She pauses then add, 'What was it like? I have heard of them of course. Was it as disturbing as some of the books claim?"
Queshem sighs and nods. It spoke right in my brain and tried to pry secrets right from it. It completely lacked morals, was greedy fer the most disturbing knowledge, and was arrogant besides. The only bit of its manner that I could sort of understand was self-preservation... other than that? Queshem shrugs Completely and utterly alien. I feel less safe here by the moment. Be glad to get out of here and back to all the other problems we've got outside of this dead and unnatural jungle